


An Alpha's omega. An Omega's alpha.

by Ze_Momonster



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: ABO Universe, Alpha Malik, Beta Shaun, Drug Use, M/M, Mpreg, Mystery gender Desmond, Omega Altaïr, Promise, Rough Pregnancy, beta rebecca, but not in the way that you're thinking, iatrophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:08:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23110726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ze_Momonster/pseuds/Ze_Momonster
Summary: Genetic scramble is a bad idea when you don't know what you’re doing guys. Just maybe.How could he put it? Well. Time Travel was a bitch. Altering the genes in your unborn child? Also a bitch.While still nothing but a bundle of cells in his mother's uterus Desmond was already failing at what his Father needed in a son. ‘My firstborn son should be an Alpha!’ William Miles had thought. A male Alpha to take his place as Mentor. But Desmond wasn't to become that. Only 3 months in his mother's womb, he was a failure in William's eyes.So, William set to fix it.And royally screwed it up in the process.Royally screwed up Desmond. And Desmond's secondary gender. Oh? And how about how he reacted to the Animas because why not.
Relationships: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad/Desmond Miles
Comments: 20
Kudos: 162





	1. Pregnant and lethal

_**Genetic scramble is a bad idea when you don't know what you’re doing guys. Just maybe.** _

Eygpt, Cairo; 1194

-

The Omega we followed was covered in the heavy clothes those of the Muslim faith preferred, thin black cloth covering them from the crown of their head to the tips of their toes.

It made the omega almost invisible to a crowd. Just another woman heavy with child walking down the street.

But not to us.

They knew they had the right person because of the thin silver chain they used to keep their _Niqaab_ shut, along with the rest of their modest garb. The silver chain started to the left of the hole that allowed sharp hazel eyes to see, and then draped down and around their body, snapping the robes shut and tight to their frame, unashamedly showing a perfect outline of their baby belly.

If owning such a beautiful and delicate chain wasn’t enough of a sign of wealth, the Omega was bundled down with various bundles and bags alike. They carried a bag filled with freshly cut bundles of wheat, massive leaves, and what looked like bamboo on their back, and another bag completely covered by white cloth on their font, one arm holding that bag to their chest, freehand entwined with a horse’s reins, a small child riding atop the large animal; the child - a girl with long curly locks - barely awake atop the steed. She looked to be no more than ten; maybe on the cusp of puberty.

The Horse itself - a beautiful dark brown steed - was laden down with other such foodstuffs; the leader of the silent stalkers noting rice and a large amount of some kind of meat.

Just where had this Omega gotten such items? All in all, it hinted to the Omega having a very wealthy Alpha, but then if they did; why was the Omega carrying out these chores? Why did they have their child with them? Especially since they looked to be heavily pregnant, close to popping in fact. Any other wealthy Alpha would have their Omega bundled up at home; not out and about doing a servant's chores.

We followed the Omega into a dense forest; one the Omega seemed to know well as they didn't show a moment's hesitation as they stepped into the heavily shadowed grounds. And of course, we quickly lost the omega in the deep forest.

-

The group following the Omega was headed by Malik al’Sayf who along with his brothers; totaled five strong.

While he alone was of the class _Master Assassin_ ; his blood Brother Kadar was a fully trained Assassin, someone he trusted at his back.

The others of their hunting party were only novices; new to death. Not untested, they had been trained specifically for this task, but unpractised they proved to be. Despite their years of training still, they were new to the toil of the Hunt, forcing the al'Sayf brothers to slow their pace so the boys could keep up.

Malik and Kadar had had to slow down several times to avoid overworking the teenagers. And lost their target several times because of it.

_(To be truthful Malik was about to leave them behind just so they could complete the mission on their own. Kadar instead used them as cheap labor and calmed his brother down when necessary.)_

They had been hunting this Omega down for over a year now and had nearly completely lost the omega several times. Other hunting parties had been quickly and quietly killed while on this hunt; they were simply the next set of fodder Al Mualim had thrown at this omega.

And so far they had lasted the longest.

And they still didn't even know if the Omega was male or female. 

The only thing they knew is they could identify the Omega by the chain.

-

Sometimes Malik thought the bitch was playing with them, leaving them little crumbs they could use to find her trail.

Malik was always watching their backs; waiting forever for who, or what had killed his brothers. Kadar was worried the anxiety Malik was giving himself would kill him before anything else would.

-

They had followed the Omega through the whole of the known world, sometimes they would be forced to circle a city, looking for signs of them; only to learn that they’d left weeks ago. - But now they had an actual _visual_ of their prey.

They had been told to bring the omega back to Mayasf **_in any way possible._**

Malik had the five of them spread out in the forest and took to the low ground himself, following the omega's footsteps to get in closer. The Omega had stopped and sat themself down on a tree stub and had started to fold the large leaves together. Maybe creating a basket?

“Malik.”

The assassin froze.

The omega had pulled the part of their Niqaab down covering their face letting Malik see plush lips curled into a smile. and a strong stubble covered chin. The Omega was looking right at him, still calmly folding, half of his face still covered in shadow and cloth.

At least, Malik thought they were male. He'd read that some females could actually grow beards and some such, but he'd still have yet to see it.

“You know better than this.” The omega spoke clear Arabic, their deep masculine voice quiet, yet piercing through the thick foliage. It was the accent that kept Malik rooted to the ground because the accent was of Mayasf origin. But not Egyptian Arabic, or Kuwait, or even Jordan - but of _home_.

They sounded very familiar, wait, no-

 _He_ sounded familiar. They had been following a male omega this entire time? One who in the past 8 months had been pregnant.

“You should never underestimate an opponent.” He continued, mirth in his voice. “Even if that opponent is a _very_ pregnant omega.”

Maybe that pregnancy was the reason he and his men all were still alive?

**_Someone else was behind him._ **

Malik threw himself forwards, barely missing a chop to the back of the neck. Trying to get back up and around didn’t work as his assailant simply started to kick at the Assassin, forcing Malik back to the ground time and time again.

Then Kadar got in the way, clashing with the unknown assailant. He heard Kadar gasp softly, but in surprise, not in pain.

"Because this _very_ pregnant omega has a _very_ protective Alpha. I'm sure the gossip spread like a wildfire when I left home."

Malik trusted Kadar with that man and, while still on the ground continued this last roll backward, blade unsheathed as he spun about, aiming for the Omega. who hadn't moved during the scuffle, save to pull a short sword out from somewhere, weapon at the ready. 

Steel met steel in a ringing clash, Malik panting as he stared down into familiar eyes. The Omega hadn't even bothered to stand, but Malik could still feel the strength that corded arms still held.

Because of course, Al Mualim would have them chase after his pride and joy. 

“Malik.”

Had dozens of them all around the whole of the Middle East looking for the Omega who ran away from their Brotherhood after Al Mualim found out he'd mated with a stranger.

Who had gotten pregnant by said stranger.

Malik grit his teeth.

“Altair.”

-

Last Edited 7.4.2020


	2. Not a disability

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Altair proves pregnant people aren't helpless. Or, well. Wherein Altair proves/He/ isn't helpless.

Even seated as he was, one hand holding the hilt; the other end of his blade braced against his raised palm, Altair had no difficulty keeping their blades locked, denying Malik any freedom; unless he wanted to shed blood as punishment.

That damnable smirk was back on the Eagle’s face; that look that had always made Malik want to give him a new bloody grin from ear to ear.

If only he wasn’t so obviously pregnant.

The red fog of anger had nearly moved him to act; but then a familiar body stumbled backward and into the small clearing, Kadar colliding into Malik – who quickly shoved Altair’s blade away expecting Altair to give him a deep wound along his arm as he turned to catch his brother – but, no pain.

Nothing.

Altair had released the pressure he’d been exerting right as Malik did the same, instead leaning back to get out of range of the newly created pile of limbs, one arm slipping under the bundle strapped to his front to cradle it closer.

**_“Kadar!”_ **

Malik was _Not **Pleased.**_

“Sorry! Sorry-” Kadar sprung back upright, hidden blade released with a soft snick as he turned to face the man who strolled into the clearing after, the stranger with his own hidden blade extended, two fingers pressed to its silvery edge. The man wore black robes similar to their assassin order and had a short sword in his left hand. He was also frowning, contorting the gruesome scars spread across half his face.

“Altair. You shouldn’t be exerting yourself.” Even though his face was near completely covered in healed shiny pink burn scars – from the stub of his left ear to across the left side of his face, over one eye and the bridge of his nose – what little of his face uninjured resembled Altair’s unique features.

Quite strongly.

“How…” Kadar gasped, turning around to stare at Altair, leaving himself wide open.

The man took a few steps forwards, pushing Kadar into Malik again; sending them both back to the ground. Furious, Malik pushed Kadar off of him – _again!_ – and stomped back up onto his feet, turning a furious stare at the stranger.

The anger quickly bled away to horrified confusion.

How could this man have survived being burnt so badly? The left side of the skin visible was shiny pink and tight, face disfigured. His left eye was hazel clouded with white, nose, and lips no more than scar tissue. Even his neck was covered in pink healed skin. His scalp along the left of his head had no hair, instead covered by the burns his face shared, but the right side had wavy brown locks reaching down to his shoulder, pulled into a loose ponytail draped over his chest.

Altair huffed. “I’m fine, Desmond.”

The stranger’s frown deepened. “And yet I have to keep on telling you to stop stressing yourself. I know you’ve hit eight months but you still need to be careful. We don’t need the baby coming out early.”

Malik watched as Altair shifted on the stump, turning to eye the forest right in front of him. A blink had his eyes shining gold before a second shifted his eyes to their light hazel hue.

“Did you kill the other three?”

“No Mother.” The young girl from before walked into the clearing, a small dagger in hand, dripping blood. “But these two should go find them before they bleed out.”

Altair nodded, starting to get upright but then lost his balance, causing the child to rush over and help him stay upright. Altair accepted the help with a huff, pointedly not reacting to Desmond’s _look._

Even with only one working eye, his glare was harsh.

Kadar rolled over onto his hands and knees, getting upright to press his back to Malik.

“Go take care of them.” Malik pushed Kadar away, the younger assassin stumbling along while turning back towards Malik.

“Are you sure?”

“Do not question me!” Malik snapped out, turning to point towards the forest. “Go make sure those idiots don’t bleed out!” Kadar nodded, eyeing Altair and the stranger ‘Desmond’ before running back towards the forest.

“They’re three yards to our left,” Desmond called out, point to his right with his thumb. 

Kadar stopped dead in his tracks, narrowing his eyes at the man. “My left is that way.”

“Oh?” Desmond purred, smirking. “Well then, they’re that way.” He shifted, pointing in the other direction.

Kadar turned around, shifting his stance ‘curious’, only to drop into a more defensive posture, hands held up in the universal _‘calm down!’_ as Malik snarled. _**“GO!”**_

Altair started towards Desmond, making Malik raise his sword, backing several steps as the pregnant omega walked past him.

“Are you the one who killed my brothers?” He demanded of Desmond, moving to protect Kadar's back while the young man rushed in the direction Desmond pointed.

Desmond cocked his head to the side. “Who? Me?” He gestured, shrugging while his hidden blade slipped back in its sheathe along his wrist. “How could I have? I’m quite literally half-blind.” He smirked, both eyes flaring gold much like Altair’s.

 _“Is – how–”_ Malik stuttered, standing back upright, staring at the man’s eyes in shock. As far as Malik knew, only Altair had the Eagle eyes, he and maybe the children he carried. Altair sniggered and Malik snapped around to eye him, mind going a mile a minute now that the threat of a fight – the aggression – had left the air. Grey eyes landed on the girl, Altair had hugged to his side.

“Is this child you carried when you ran away?”

Altair tilted his head to the side. “Yes? Why?”

“So she’s the reason you left-"

Desmond snorted. “No. Altair left for many reasons; one of those being that that old fool tried to make an Omega abort their own firstborn. Through force.” He shook his head, taking the bag off Altair’s back when the Omega got close enough to touch, slinging it over his shoulder. “If Al Mualim had just left Altair alone he’d still have his loyal lapdog at his side-” he cut off when Altair punched him in the side, dramatically collapsing against the tall man’s chest.

“Take me home.” Altair whined softly, shifting so that the child was between them. The young girl willingly and happily let it happen, wrapping her arms around Desmond's torso.

Desmond sighed, rolling his eyes. “Go on then. Prove to me you actually can get home without causing a fuss. Just let me make sure this one doesn’t try to follow you.”

Altair snorted softly, and took the bag back, planting a kiss on one scarred cheek. “I’ll leave Maud with you then. Come along, Ishtar.” The little girl nodded, bouncing along as she followed her mother deeper into the forest, leaving the horse behind where it stood grazing.

“Before you ask, yes Ishtar is my daughter. I am his Alpha.” Desmond paused, slipping into Malik’s way as the assassin made to go after Altair. “But I’m not the reason why he left. Ultimately, he left because your mentor tried to kill me.”

Desmond lifted his left hand, gesturing to his left side. “The scars cover the whole of my left side. I barely survived. After receiving a message from my sister he left Masyaf to be by my side as I healed.”

“You can’t know it was-”

“They attacked me.” Desmond interrupted ruthlessly. “ _They attacked me,_ Malik, with a five-man cell. And then set my home ablaze after the assassination attempt failed. So I know firsthand what happened that night. They attacked me, but when they could not defeat me in armed combat; they set my house on fire to try and kill me. Maybe he wanted me dead; maybe he was hoping the shock of losing me would cause Altair to miscarry; I can’t know for certain what he was thinking. All I can tell you is that the final outcome was an attempt on my life, and Altair leaving Masyaf to protect me while I laid unconscious. Simple as that.”

Last Edited 7.4.2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys, I never expected people to find this so fast! thanks for your questions; I hope this chapter cleared things up. And if you notice any typos or the like, please tell me. Again, I wrote and edited this in a day or so, so it feels a bit rushed to me.  
> Thanks for your time.


	3. An Alpha by any other name is ... an Omega?

Kadar hadn’t had to travel far to find the three novices in his party laid out on the ground, only wounded with superficial bruising. Scowling, one by one Kadar checked each boy, noting the bumps on their heads.

Where that child got the blood on their blades from, he didn’t know, but it wasn’t from these three. They’d all been knocked out, left for him to find.

A distraction. A simple way to split them up, when they knew paring three to five; more like two to five, what with Altair heavily pregnant and the child only half-trained – well, he hoped she was only half-trained. Syria didn’t need another lethal teenager, Altair had been enough of a mess all his own – Desmond himself was the only one able to fight. And he was blind.

Yes, the intelligent thing to do was split them up, and take out the weakest first.

Three down, the last two could be subdued, one by one.

A twig snapped behind him.

_Pop!Pop!_

-

And Malik, not even five yards away from where Kadar had found their Novices was quickly coming to understand that as well; and how this man’s ‘disability’ did not hinder him in any way that Malik himself could see.

Desmond pulled no punches keeping Malik in the clearing with a razor-sharp focus. Every time Malik tried to get around the man Desmond would shadow his every move, sword soon dripping with Malik’s blood from a dozen tiny scratches.

And the man had **both** eyes closed! It was humiliating.

No wonder Altair had no issue being submissive to this man.

But Malik still couldn’t sense that marker every Alpha had on this man. Much like an Omega’s scent that labeled them as Omega, Alpha had something similar.

Malik had it, but Kadar - being a Beta - did not, Beta being the closest to the base-line of humankind. They did not go into Heat, like an Omega; nor could be stirred into Rut, like an Alpha.

But the thing that made a Beta more than a simple human was that they could form bonds with Alpha and Omega; allowing the instincts of the two secondary genders to recognize them in high times of stress. Being a Beta also meant they could be a substitute for an Alpha in rut with no Omega; and vice-versa, in extreme circumstances. 

For years Altair had masked his markers, using dangerous herbs to maintain a Beta’s scent. And even then, most thought him an Alpha hiding behind the scent of a Beta.

No one with his personality could be anything less than an Alpha.

They had thought.

But such drugs could not last forever so one day, ten years ago, Altair at the age of twenty-five just up and vanished. For nearly a month no one had seen their prized Eagle of Mayasf, and even the Mentor had nothing to say to Altair’s whereabouts.

But then, in the dead of night, Altair had returned, appearing before the Mentor with news.

He was pregnant.

So, not only had Altair been hiding his secondary gender for nearly a decade, not only had he gotten off his drugs; he'd managed to get pregnant by an unknown Alpha.

From what Malik had heard through the grapevine, the Master had been enraged, yelling at Altair for over an hour. Yelling loud enough for most on that floor to hear him.

 _“You dare! You dare ignore all I have told you about how careful you need to be!? I’ve been telling you since the age of thirteen that your womb is a precious object to this Order! And then you turn around and return to me_ used _!?”_

That’s when the physical fight started. From what he was told.

Apparently Altair had taken offense to being reduced to only a womb and left Masayf again. And this time he had no reason to return.

That was the story that passed through dozens of mouths; changing much from man to man.

Malik at first didn’t believe it.

Altair couldn’t have been an Omega all this time. Their youngest Master couldn’t be a _subservient **wife** -_

But seeing Altair now. Fat and happy on swollen feet; so obviously content with a babe in his belly and eldest at hand.

And this man had been the cause of it. This man, who could keep up; no, could _outmaneuver_ a Master Assassin!

With his fucking eyes closed!

A solid punch had the air flee his lungs, Malik slipping down to one knee as he fought to breathe, sword raised to defend himself. Desmond had not been kind, adding several swift punches to the more tinder areas on a man’s body, but with Malik on the ground, the other man simply backed away, out of range.

Malik couldn’t help but wonder if he’d get kicked in the groin sometime soon.

Seeing Malik finally _stay down_ ; Desmond shook his head ruefully, opening his good eye to stare Malik down. “I should have known you’d be like this. I cannot let it continue.” He continued somberly, lowering his blade when he noted Malik pause in rising. “This pointless manhunt has already taken 11 lives. I would have already dealt with you five, but after learning you and Kadar were part of this hunting party Altair begged me not to kill either of you. He thought it more fun to tease you I assume. I like to think, all the time he’s taken to get you all to follow him to a territory outside of Al Mualim’s control, harkens back to the friendship you once had. Seems he’s a bit soft while pregnant; he’s had two of them back to back this time.” He chuckled. “Flush with the pregnancy hormones he couldn’t see you both hurt. And I will do as he asks, but I must tell you this.” He sheathed his sword, taking the time to adjust a strap on his left arm. “That old idiot you call Master, after assuming the five of you dead, will continue to throw his men at us, and while I have promised to spare you, there are other ways to stop this foolishness.” Done tinkering he pulled down the beaked hood of his uniform, throwing half his face into shadow.

“It wasn’t this mission that killed them! It was you!”

Desmond bowed his head slightly. “Yes. But-”

“There is no ‘but’! You killed them-”

Desmond glanced back upright, both eyes flashing bright gold.

“What Alpha wouldn’t do anything to protect their Omega? And what of my children? To all of your _brothers,_ I gave the choice to back away, or die. They all chose death. Am I to be blamed for everything when all I was doing was protecting my Omega? My children?” He demanded.

Malik paused. “You’re his Alpha?” Something felt wrong about that sentence.

Desmond smiled, the soft gesture twisted by his lack of lip. “You think anyone but his chosen could get him with child more than once?”

Malik simply stared at him for a long moment. “I – you.” He paused at that. “You don’t smell like an alpha. You … don’t really smell of anything.”

Desmond soured. “Shoulda known you‘d notice.” He threw both hands downward, the familiar sight of a hidden blade popping out from his wrist muted by the fact that this man had _**two** of them._

Malik gaped.

Desmond retracted the blades, and shifted, raising a hand to gesture towards himself in a lazy twist of his wrist, pointing at Malik then back towards himself.

“If you must insist on continuing this foolishness then fine. Try to get past me.”

Last Edited 4.12.2020

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little background added for the curious. Any questions?


	4. It's diazepam. With a little alprazolam for flavor; totally, and completely, safe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Promise.

_Pop!Pop!_

_**It's diazepam. With a little alprazolam for flavor; totally, and completely, safe.** _

_(Trust me)_

Kadar spun about only to pause when light but _sharp_ pain radiated from his chest.

Other than the initial sting, he almost didn’t register that he’d been hit with something.

Instinct had him glancing downwards. Two … things protruded from his chest, red tuffs – feathers? Attached to the vials.

 _“Shit!”_ A voice snapped out. Kadar reached up, touching one of them, wincing as the pain sharpened. The sight of blood has him reacting as he pulled the objects from his chest and eyed them, frowning.

What were these? They reminded him of the thin hollowed out bone needles he’d seen some doctor’s use.

Two strangers emerged from the trees, both holding thin tubes. One, a brown-haired man the other a dark-haired woman.

They both registered to his senses as Betas, and Kadar readied himself for a fight.

 _“Why’d you shoot?”_ The man demanded. It wasn’t Arabic he spoke, instead, it sounded like English? He couldn’t tell; Malik and Altair were ones who knew multiple languages he didn’t.

But then the world swirled, his hearing going hazy before snapping back into sharp focus.

Kadar groaned softly and the two paused as he slipped down to his knees, catching himself on one hand. “What did you do to me?” He grabbed his forehead, grimacing. “What kind of drug is this?”

 _"He startled me!”_ The woman whined. _“Sorry, sorry, I guess I'm a little bit trigger happy. Not used to 12th century Syria just yet.”_

_“Well you’d better hope Desmond has any vials of Mucomyst on him, or else you’ll have set Malik and a very pregnant Altair on our asses. Not even traveling back to the present time will save us from those two.”_

The woman winced, paling. _“Well, we’d best get him to Desmond sooner rather than later!”_

-

“A part of my mind doesn’t want to fight you.” Malik began slowly, curling his right hand so the blade would slide out, then back in, over and over. “It almost seems cruel; to fight a blind man. This act is wrong.” Desmond snorted, reaching up over his shoulder to pull a beautiful short sword free of its sheathe.

 _ **“Nothing is true, all is permitted."** _Desmond recited, spinning the hilt about his hand until he held it in reverse. "Even with this principle, you still can’t help but pity me huh? My advice: don’t bother. I can see quite clearly when I need to do.” He unsheathed the right of his hidden blades and widened his stance; only to pause, turning to his right.

 _“DESMOND!”_ Rebecca screamed. _“WHERE’S THE ANTIDOTE!?”_ seconds later the woman burst into the clearing, running right up to Desmond as he put his sword away.

She was short and thin, wearing a uniform similar to Desmond; the Assassin’s garb, but black. And unlike Desmond who looked like he’d simply dyed his uniform, hers were designed differently.

Gone were the to the ankle sweeping robes, replaced by a much shorter grey hued tunic-like garb, differentiating her from Desmond's classic Assassin's robes. The tunic was hard felt; it looked almost like hard leather, thick enough to hide her feminine frame until one got close enough to see her face. She had several pouches, most full judging by how they sat on her hips. On top of that, she wore what looked like a massive sack on her back, the massive pouch strapped to her shoulders and back by three belts of leather.

Malik cocked his head to the side. A female assassin? He could not see a hidden blade upon her arm so, was she more a scholar or maybe healer?

 _“Did you give him a double dose?”_ Desmond asked calmly, voice slightly different with the change in language, the snick of his hidden blade retracting making Malik stand upright, weary but not battle-ready. He could understand English, but only to a slight degree. But not enough to keep up.

_“Yes, sorry, I know you specifically warned us but-”_

_“What, did_ Kadar _scare you?”_ Desmond asked sarcastically. _“The marshmallow al’Sayf?”_

The use of his brother’s name, the same in any language, made Malik perk up, eyes narrowing. Desmond, of course, took notice, watching Malik with his one good eye even as he spoke to the woman. _“Is Shaun bringing him back over here?”_

_“YES! And guess WHAT? It seems none of us thought what a decade – alive – would do to the kid’s muscles! He’s bloody HEAVY! Could use just a BIT of HELP!?”_

The woman let out a squeak, rushing back to Shaun before Kadar’s weight broke him.

Desmond didn’t take his gaze off of Malik until the two laid the younger man on his back at Desmond’s feet. Only then did he shift, kneeling to press two fingers to Kadar’s neck, gaze flicking over Kadar’s face – slack, though from the rapid blinking it looked like the young assassin was still somewhat awake, if not coherent – and the two pinprick wounds from the tranquilizer darts, peeking out from the layers of his robes, staining his white robes with blots of red.

 _“Hmm. You guys got lucky. He’s at least 2 kilos heavier than in the memory. I would wager to say, puberty, and yes those extra ten years helped.”_ Desmond stood back up, shrugging. _“He’ll be fine, and come out of it in a few hours.”_

“What is wrong with my brother?” Malik demanded, his voice catching Desmond’s attention, who once again had both eyes closed.

“In subduing him, my brother and sister overdid it a little. But no worries-” Desmond lifted a hand ‘stop’ before the anger brewing in his chest could surface more than gritted teeth. “He will be fine, after some rest. Now your novices, on the other hand, all have concussions at the least - I hit them a bit harder than I probably should have.”

Too focused on Desmond; Malik didn’t care to notice what the new stranger was doing; fury lighting up his veins. “What happened-”

_Pop!Pop!Pop!_

Malik froze, spinning around to face the brown-haired man, a scowl on his face. “What did you just do?” he demanded, reaching back behind himself,

Desmond had a hand on his back before he could get a response, making Malik flinch as he pulled something from the Syrian’s back. “The same thing we did to Kadar, though you’ve been given a larger dose. Now relax, getting mad won’t help.”

“You-!”

His knees went out before he could answer, the world wavering seconds later.

(I have a confession. I forgot how to spell 'Syria' for a good five minutes while writing this.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you know drugs and all that (medical people) Can you tell me if the drugs listed actually do what I need them too? Please'ums and thankies!


	5. On the Road Again

Chapter Five;

On the Road Again

Desmond quietly opened the door, shutting it with a click that had his Omega sitting up in their bed, angrily throwing thin sweat-soaked sheets off of himself. His Heat had him long ago throwing his clothes off, leaving him in a pair of thin linen shorts.

 _“Alpha!”_ Altair held his arms out; scowling when Desmond came no closer. **_“Desmond…!”_** Altair whined, tossing a pillow at him. _“Where have you been?”_

Desmond locked the door, watching the pillow not even make it halfway towards his person with a sigh. “Nevermind that.” He went quiet for a moment; watching Altair slump back onto the bed, sprawled out with little to no coordination. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

Already drunk on the cocktail of hormones ravaging his brain Altair could only whimper. _“Come here!”_

“Nabir is only a few months old-”

 _“Desmond!”_ – finally clicking two brain cells together, Altair pulled himself out of the bed, nearly falling on his ass after stumbling over the discarded bed sheets. _“Shut up!”_

Desmond paused, cocking his head to the side, listening intently as Altair shuffled closer. “And it can’t be a good idea for you to have two pregnancies so close together-”

_“I’ll be fine!”_

“Especially after the trouble you had carrying Nabir-”

_“Desmond!!”_

Altair stumbled into Desmond’s arms, the older man getting a good lung full of heat-drunk Omega hormones.

Desmond groaned, cock hardening as Altair pasted himself to Desmond’s front.

 _“Come on…”_ Altair’s knees gave out; the scent now pouring off of Desmond doing nothing to help his hormonal state. “Bed. _Now_. Bed.”

Altair grinned, grabbing Desmond and then leaned back; Desmond catching him before he brought them both to the ground. Arms now full of hormonal Omega, Desmond chuckled, picking Altair up and spinning round to press him against the door with a loud thump. “I’ve made you wait long enough haven’t I?”

The two grinned at each other, Altair reaching down to grope at Desmond’s groin through the thin linen of his clothes.

Desmond jumped slightly, blinking his eyes open when Altair’s hand got around his cock and chuckled, pressing his lips against sweaty skin. Rocking his hips into that teasing hand, Desmond reached behind Altair to get his hands on Altair’s ass, shoving down soaked cloth to get his fingers up inside the Omega, getting a high pitched cry for his efforts.

“Alright then lover. Let’s get to work putting another pup in your belly huh?”

\- ~ -

_“You…!”_

Desmond caught Malik as he slumped forwards, gentling the man’s fall to the ground. “Be thankful that my Omega remembers his debts.” He murmured, watching the sedative properly sink in, the Master Assassin’ falling into a deep sleep with only that broken word.

While three doses knocked Malik out cold in less than a minute, Kadar was still awake after two - _somewhat_.

Hearing Malik curse, the younger brother had tried to sit up; but failed halfway, slumping over onto his side. Desmond laid Malik down beside him, helping Kadar roll over onto his belly.

“See?” He murmured. “He’s fine. You both just need some rest.”

Kadar simply stared, vision wavering on the face that was Altair’s … but not at the same time.

“Well. That worked nicely. Somehow.” Shaun sighed, putting the blow dart away. Rebecca laughed, darting over to the side and then throwing off the tree’s worth of leaves she’d used to hide the good-sized cart for the horse.

“I told you I knew what I was doing.” Desmond reminded him, lifting Kadar up over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry.

“Sorry if I didn’t believe you.” Shaun snorted, helping Rebecca pull the cart out of hiding and into the clearing. “Oddly enough, I didn’t think a bartender would have the knowledge of how to mix various animal venom into a sedative that wouldn’t outright kill the target!”

“I love how me being a bartender means I don’t know anything else.” Desmond chuckled walking over to the two. “But I can mix up a mean margarita, right?”

Rebecca laughed at that, sticking her tongue out at Shaun. “I told you to just trust him!” She said cheerfully. “Or well, in this case; trust _Connor Kenway_.”

Desmond chuckled at that. He was still thanking Conner for his hunting and trapping abilities; which Desmond learned along with the Native Assassin when locked in his memories. He’d been able to keep the three of them – now six and three quarters – fed; and then make quite a bit of money selling the pelts and leftovers. It helped to have Ezio’s knowledge as well – well, what little that had stuck to Ezio after a lifetime of friendship with THE Renaissance Man: Leonardo Da Vinci.

By the time he’d officially met Altair in this timeline, they’d had amassed a good amount of coin with this little trade business; Shaun pulling out of his brain a truly effective way to tan the hides into a very sturdy leather. Leather that could last much longer than what people of this time could make, and therefore could be sold for more. Add a bored Rebecca and well … they had a lot of stock.

And had amassed so much the three of them each had their own home, their own space. Simple sturdy structures; a place to call their own after months running from Templars; and then the accident.

They had had enough money that – by the time his house had burned – it was easier – and cheaper – to just build a new house that all three of them could call home; than rebuild the old for Desmond alone. One that had two basements – both protected from fire; just in case the actual house was again burnt to the ground – one Shaun’s already massive library housed with their stock of finished inventory, the second Desmond’s, and now Altair’s – armory.

Shaun scowled, watching Desmond load Kadar into the cart. “Well. We’ll see if you did it right by if and when they wake up.”

“ _Yeah yeah yeah._ Come on, help me get these saddlebags off of Maud?”

Rebecca mock saluted. “I’m on it!” She wiggled in place, adjusting the straps on her shoulders as she turned to Shaun. “You can get Malik up off the ground.”

Shaun groaned. “If he’s anywhere near the same weight as Kadar then count me out.” Desmond snorted, carefully getting Malik onto his shoulders. “Al’Sayf the younger almost broke my back as it is.”

“Aww, does Shaun need a back rub?” Rebecca cooed, holding the cart still as Desmond laid Malik out next to Kadar.

His answer was swift and terse. Completely deadpan. “Yes.”

Desmond snorted, taking Maud’s saddlebags from Rebecca as the woman cackled into Maud’s side, partially finished with hitching the cart onto the still grazing mare.

They’d had Maud for a few years now; the mare proving to be steady and, as another point in her favor; completely able to ignore their antics. Desmond hadn’t – up to this point – ever seen her spooked.

Shaun and Rebecca were quick to hop into the covered cart, pushing the brothers closer together to free up some legroom for the two without crushing the food rations Altair had just bought for them.

Once they were situated comfortably Shaun poked his head back out, a long black robe in his grip; one that Desmond dawned quickly; hiding his assassin based attire. Wrapping a long rosary around his hips like a belt; and a second-round his left hand, the disguise was done.

But; of course – before Desmond could get the hood of the robes on, a blob of red caught his attention; he turned to his right in time to catch a thin dagger that had been aimed at the back of his head.

“We forgot about the Novices.” Desmond’s simple dry wit at its best. Sighing, Desmond turned to eye the forest off to his side. He could see the three of them had separated, each flanking him right, left, and what had been his back, but now front.

“Okay boys; smart strategy so far. Though; I am surprised that, upon seeing I took out both al’Sayf brothers the three of you thought to attack me one on one.” Desmond started flipping the dagger around his fingers, but then realized – despite the fact that he had on dark monk robes; he still was fully armed underneath the thick cloth; short sword and full-length blade included. Muttering angrily at himself he sunk the dagger into the side of the cart and quickly stripped, peeling off the heavy dark robes – and with the robes up over his face Novice one, at his left attacked, sword drawn.

Being blinded by clothes meant nothing to a blind man.

Easily dodging the teenager; Desmond tripped him, tossing the robes back onto the cart; and grabbed the dagger he’d left there; watching the boy careen right into the cart with a pained grunt.

And immediately had to spin around and catch the second novice – the one at his back – before he got stabbed in the abdomen.

“Hmm.” He mused, grip tight on the kid’s wrist. This one had yet to hit puberty judging by how short he was; and Desmond – at a nice height of 6’1” – had a little fun yanking his arm up enough to get a look at his wrist, forcing the young assassin to wiggle about helplessly, forced up onto his toes, and trying to free himself as he reached for a second weapon and Desmond laughed. “You guys don’t even have a hidden blade yet huh.” He jerked the kid from side to side; disorientating him; then tossed him into the first novice; watching them both flail trying to not stab each other as they fell to the ground.

He watched the two struggle with each other and their own clothing trying to get back up and snorted, tilting his head to the side in that way that told them he was listening intently. “There’s no point in hiding. I know exactly where you are.” He reached out with a foot; upsetting the balance of the two novices on the ground once again; smirking at the curses he got in reply.

A soft squeak came from the forest and Desmond snorted, casually stalking into the forest.

“Um. Does that sound super stalkerish or is it just me?” Rebecca asked Shaun bluntly, Desmond laughing as Shaun sighed.

“When you know he’s basically blind but he can still say things like that; yes I’d say it’s a bit creepy.”

A yelp echoed out through the forest, birds taking flight.

“Alright, crisis averted. So.” Rebecca glanced over at the two novices who were inching away from the cart and pulled out her blowdart. “Think it’s safe to tranc them?”

“Probably not.” Shaun said, face buried in his book. “We have no idea their ages, weight, or even if they have any allergens.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Desmond called out, strolling back into the clearing. He had the third novice over one shoulder, knocked out once again. “I’ll deal with them.”

He dropped the novice onto the cart. “Tie him up for me?” Rebecca chuckled meanly, grabbing some rope.

“Oh no.” Shaun snapped his book shut. “We are not taking them with us.”

“Oh, so are we just going to leave them here; in the middle of the forest?” Desmond asked dryly.

“Yes!” That came out as a shout as Desmond started after the two novices. “Or; better yet, just kill them!”

Desmond paused, idly twirling the dagger he still had in hand as he hummed. “Point. Though…”

“What? What is it?”

“I kinda feel bad; they’re so young.”

“And if we leave them alive they’ll run right back to Rashid!”

“Could they even get back?” Rebecca mused, finishing the last tie on the now bound and unconscious youth. “Do they even know where they are?”

“So. Leave them here; hope they don’t die, but also don’t know how to get home. Or-” Desmond cut off, defending himself from the full on charge of the two novices. “Or get killed by someone else. Bring them home means more mouths to feed; but…”

Even as he mused the topic; he knew what he was going to do. Knew what he had to do, what was best for them all.

Hardening his heart, Desmond grabbed hold of one boy and flipped him around so his back was to Desmond’s chest. Before the boy could say a word, Desmond slit his throat from ear to ear and tossed the boy aside.

The third novice screamed and turned, slipping on muddy ground as he tried to run, but Desmond was having none of it, instead throwing his borrowed dagger into the boy’s back.

He cried out in pain and dropped to the ground, leaving only one left to dispose of. With a heavy sigh, Desmond turned towards the third; who Rebecca had already untied.

“This is for the best.” She said, helping Desmond unload him from the cart.

“I know.” He stabbed the boy in the heart and laid him out on the ground. Muscle memory had him digging through the boy’s pockets, grabbing money, weapons, and what looked like a letter, in familiar handwriting.

“Huh. This kid’s got a letter on him from Al Mualim.” Desmond called out, standing back upright. “Check Malik to see if he has one too?” He asked, quickly going through the other two’s pouches.

Walking back over to the cart, with two more missives, he handed them to Shaun, while Rebecca showed empty hands.

“So. The three Novices all have letters – possible instructions – from Rashid. But Malik – the Master Assassin and leader – and Kadar don’t.” Rebecca began, tugging one letter away from Shaun as he looked them over. “How interesting! What do they say!?”

Desmond sighed, shaking his head as he pulled his weapons off, and then put the monk’s robes back on.

The cart now loaded up with two unconscious, and two conscious assassins; and said cart hooked up to one very steady horse, Desmond set about double-checking all the locks and ties – a habit he’d developed as a very young teen at the Farm after one time hopping up on a horse someone else had saddled. Incorrectly.

Cue Desmond kicking the horse into a trot; then sliding sideways off said horse. And due to a bad landing, he’d broken his arm for the second time.

“Oh come on Desmond!” Shaun bitched, the book already back open in his lap. “We already did all that, let’s just get back before Altair throws a fit.”

That got a chuckle out of Rebecca as she caught Desmond rolling his eyes. “So, let me get this straight.” Desmond began, tugging on one loose strap. “If I double-check everything you get mad at me. But if the cart came undone, you’d also yell at me right?” Shaun opened his mouth, but kept silent, blinking. “So this is a lose/lose situation either way for me huh?”

The ginger snorted, going back to his book; an old tome of something or other he was in the middle of processing.

Finishing up his task, Desmond grabbed Maud’s reins, turning to watch Shaun and Rebecca tie everything and everyone down. Including themselves; 12th-century seatbelts.

“Everybody strapped in?”

“We’re good!” Rebecca chirped.

“Alright. Let’s head on back. I’ve rabbit stew cooking.”

Rebecca winced, Shaun laughing at the look.

“Still don’t like that we have capture and kill game to eat meat?”

“I’m still debating whether or not to just go vegetarian.” She said seriously.

“Not a good idea. Our meals already barely reach the caloric intake to keep us healthy; if you decide to go vegetarian in this day in age you’ll be starving your body of the calories it needs to function properly. And I doubt you want to get sick now. They still practice bloodletting in this time.” He paused, watching Rebecca made a face and then continued. “With leeches.”

“Ick!”

“Ahh yes, _the humors_.” Desmond shook his head, closing up the back entrance to the covered cart, weapons safely stored inside. “It’s still a very long time before those get debunked. Though I remember reading somewhere that the four humors actually do have a grain of truth to them. A single grain.” He tied the two pieces of cloth shut, waiting for a rebuttal; chuckling when the ever witty silver-tongued historian kept silent. “Must be a really good book.” He commented dryly, pulling his hood back up and then hopping onto Maud.

“Yes … one that is completely new to me.” Shaun said distractedly, leaning back as Rebecca tried to get a look. “Can you read Latin? No? Well then.”

“I’m learning!”

“Slowly. This is A _ncient Latin_ , Rebecca, so excuse me if I assume you wouldn’t be able to string a paragraph together.” He was quiet a long moment staring down at the book. “Hell, I barely can read it.” He admitted.

Rebecca huffed, sticking out her tongue as Desmond laughed, kicking Maud into an easy trot.

“What about the letters?” He asked.

“Well. I can tell you at a glance that they are different. Each one has different instructions. And beyond that, seeing as I cannot read Arabic without my cheat sheet; you’ll have to find out later.” Shaun reported, deadpan.

“I thought you were working on that.” Desmond asked, Rebecca holding one letter in the air – upside down – trying to make sense of the squiggles in whatever light she could get in the moving cart.

“I am. But these are also encoded, and I’m sorry to say I’m not that good at Arabic to decode it right now. You and Altair will have to figure it out later.”

Desmond cursed softly. “What could have been so important that Al Mualim gave each novice encoded orders; separately? But not Malik and Kadar?”

Rebecca handed Shaun back he third letter and shrugged, undoing the laces holding her pack to her back. “I dunno. But maybe the old bastard didn’t trust Malik and Kadar with finding Altair? Aren’t they old friends?”

“That could be true, but then why have them lead a search party in the first place?” Shaun asked the open air.

“Maybe…” Desmond shook his head. “Maybe he thought the two either already knew where he was; or.” He paused for a long moment, then cocked his head to the side. “Or better yet; since they knew him so well; they’d be able to follow his thought patterns? Maybe he thought they would have the best chance at finding him. Say; for example. What if Al Mualim had thought Altair had been the one killing the search parties; Al Mualim must have been counting on him being reluctant to kill these two. And he was right.” He spun around locking eyes with Shaun, then Rebecca. “Now we’re in the middle of a gamble. Who are they more loyal to? Altair, or Al Mualim?”

That question got silence, and Desmond sighed.

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

The heavy conversation had the three of them quiet soon after; Desmond concentrating on the road; Shaun his book, and Rebecca with a small book of her own; one that Altair had written for her; one page Latin; the other English; with small notes in Arabic to help her learn the languages.

But then Desmond saw _red_.

“Shit. _Hide_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay guys, you know how it has been. COVID-19 had us on lockdown; I wrote a lot. But then, being in America - we started to open back up.  
> Too early. Cue me; now without a job; and suddenly with much more free time!  
> yay.  
> edit;  
> omg guys there are so many kudos. thank you so much, I think I might cry. xDDDDD - Mo


	6. Action when Expedient ...

Pausing, Ishtar watched Altair freeze, one hand cradling the bundle wrapped up against his chest as he moved to lean back against a tree.

She heard a baby cry.

Altair sighed, shifting to pull away part of the thin cloth strapped to his chest, revealing the face of a teary-eyed baby. “…Nabir.” At the sound of his name, the little boy started to cry in earnest.

Patting the baby’s back, Altair started to sway a bit, humming. “At least he slept through the mess earlier.”

Ishtar pressed herself up against her mother’s side; getting up on her toes to peek at her baby brother. “What’s wrong?”

Altair chuckled. “Oh, everything.” Nabir let out a particular loud wail, little hands getting free of the binding to reach for Altair’s face. “He’s hungry, I need to change him, he doesn’t like the swaddling cloth… For one with so small a world-”

 ** _“Oi, bitch!”_** Altair stilled, glancing up with his head still bowed. **_“Can’t you shut the brat up?”_**

“Better yet; where’s all your shit!?”

“Don’t tell me someone else stole it before we could get back!?”

Altair reached out, yanking Ishtar behind him. He began to back them away as several large dirty men filled into the clearing.

“Bitch!” One man got right up in Altair’s face. “Didn’t you hear me? Shut the brat up before I do it for y- _urk!”_

Hand now locked around the man’s throat, Altair huffed softly. A twitch of his wrist sliced the man’s throat open and Altair let him go, resheathing the blade with a thought. Rolling his shoulders, he undid the knot holding Nabir to his chest and handed the baby over to Ishtar.

Now the strangers had yet to notice the dead man, too busy conversing;

“Well. So we can’t get the goods.”

“Na, I figure we could squeeze the location out of the bitch.”

“He’s pregnant.”

The man laughed cruelly. “That’s easy enough to fix.”

Altair felt the world slow around him; attention on laser focus as his world bled **_red_**.

They. They wanted to.

How Dare They.

They needed to die.

He couldn’t let them touch him.

Eyeing the group he cocked his head to the side, murmuring. “Run.”

And then slid in between them and his children, head bowed.

“But- _Mother!”_

“Do not argue, Ishtar. _Go. **Now**.”_

Now scowling up at him, Ishtar did as ordered, bolting out of the clearing.

And catching the attention of the brutes.

“Well. There goes that idea.” One laughed, walking over towards Altair. He glanced at the body between then, huffing another laugh gruffly. “Looks like there’s more to you than wealth and belly eh, Omega?” He reached out, finger almost stroking along the silver chain circling Altair’s body. “Even if we lost the main bounty; this’ll surely fetch a plentiful price…”

Loud footsteps behind him had Altair ducking to the side, stabbing the attacker in the kidney while punting him at the asshole in front of him.

It’s pandemonium from there.

None of the goons knew how to properly handle a blade, much less _which part you stabbed with._

It left Altair to wade through the mess of bodies and steel; sneaking in crippling blows amidst fatal wounds.

Soon, it was just down to two cowards who kept at the tree line opposite Altair, who – stolen blade in hand – eyed them scowling.

He did _not_ feel like running around after a duo of fools.

A grey form dropping from the trees to land in the two in an excellent double assassination had him jerking back in alarm, sword held at the ready.

Then the stranger looked up, pulling his _twin hidden blades_ from his kills

_Two? Who was this man? He couldn’t be from Levantine Order; not with two blades – was he then like Desmond? From a different time?_

“Altair ibn’La-Ahad.” The stranger in grey breathed, making Altair back another step, blinking into the Eagle Vision.

The stranger was _gold_.

But was he _important_ gold? Or _target_ gold?

“It’s an honor to meet you.” English. That alone made Altair suspicious.

Altair frowned, flexed fist allowing his blade to slip back into its sheathe. “Can’t say the same; _stranger_.”

The man seemed transfixed, staring at the other assassin. “Altair ibn’La-Ahad was an omega?”

Altair scoffed, tightening his grip on his blade. “What of it?” He demanded, self-consciously pressing his free hand to his belly. “What the devil do you speak, _was_? _Who are you.”_

The stranger grinned, instead turning to his hidden blades, dripping blood. “Can you not see I am an ally?” He asked, nonchalant, only lifting his gaze to allow his eyes to flash gold.

Altair jerked back, eyes going wide. He’d only seen such a thing once.

In Desmond.

To his own gaze; Desmond’s eyes – both for all one saw no more – flashed the Gold of the Eagle Sight whenever he switched over to the muted world.

Did that mean this stranger too had the Gift?

**_Just who was this man?_ **

“Who are you?!” He demanded.

The man stood, both hands raised. “Not your enemy.”

Altair scoffed. “Despite the fact that you look like a _peacock_ I can still see the assassin’s garb in your robes. No matter what my sight shows none of the Assassin’s Order are my allies. Now, who are you?”

“I am not of the Levantine Order, Altair ibn-La’Ahad. And I am no ally to them.” He shifted to one knee in front of Altair, bowing his head. “I am here to pledge my loyalties to you and yours.”

Silence.

Pressing his free hand to his belly Altair stared down at the stranger, shocked and confused.

_“Why.”_

\- Previously -

But then Desmond saw _red_.

“Shit. _Hide_.”

The two assassin’s sprung into action, closing the cart’s opened covering as well as covering themselves and their passengers in thick blankets.

With his Eagle Vision active he could see the golden silhouettes behind him vanish behind a smog of white and shifted, huddling over to hide his face as two knights a-horseback in full mail trotted past.

“Well now. Look at this!”

One knight – Desmond labeled him as the Asshat – reached out to grab at Desmond’s hood, forcing it back and off his head entirely. Desmond closed his bad eye and turned to stare right at the two, amused at their reaction to his face.

He’d seen the damage.

It was not pretty. He had no reservations about his appearance; even with the burns all completely healed.

It was simple.

He looked monstrous.

Watching the two grown men shudder and gasp at his face; unconsciously pulling their horses to back away several steps – Asshat letting go of his hood with a disgusted wave of his hand – drove home how people saw him now.

It was moments like this that made Desmond adore his family – and love Altair – all the more.

They could see past the scars. They could touch him without recoiling from the shiny lumpy pink skin that covered over 60% of his body. The scars that, at one point, had threatened to destroy his fighting capabilities; nearly freezing his dominant left arm in place because of the shiny-healed- _tight_ scars all along the arm.

Desmond let himself smile slightly as the men glanced at each other; mumbling softly.

Oh no. He knew how he looked.

It was hideous. But even then.

Altair stayed.

Through the depression, the healing, the physical therapy.

“Is something wrong?” He asked softly, closing his eye.

“Uh.” One started.

“No,” Said the second. He sounded a bit more levelheaded than Asshat. “We had thought you may be a criminal we’re looking for. You can move along, Father.”

Desmond bowed his head; pressing his hands together. Playing the part of a humble old monk. But a prayer of thanks on high all the same.

“Thank you, boys.” He murmured; reaching forwards to grab Maud’s reins and kick back into her easy trot.

“Wait, Monk,” Asshat said suddenly; horse getting closer as the knight – in full armour – close-lined Desmond; knocking him out of the saddle and onto the ground between the horses.

Desmond landed with a grunt closing his eyes as the knights crowded in close atop their horses, Maud flicking her tail in annoyance with a huff.

“What’ve you got in here, huh?” He began, then spat on Desmond. **_“Putain moine laid._** ” He muttered in French, causing Desmond to glance up; get a good look at his face.

 _“Ugly fucking monk”_ huh?

 _Gotta love assholes._ Desmond made a face. He could already tell this wasn’t going to end peacefully.

“Food; clothing, just basic supplies. Given to us by the headman of the last city.” Desmond said, slowly getting himself up and on his knees, pulling his hood back up. “Nothing much.”

That got him a kick on the back of his head; Desmond letting the hit propel him forwards and back onto the ground. Asshat chuckled cruelly, making his horse prance about, nearly crushing his hands.

If a fight broke out; _him_ first.

“Is that right? Well then, I guess you won’t mind us grabbing a little snack, monk?”

“No; please don’t.” he protested, starting to get back up on his knees.

He got kicked again for his troubles.

Three tries. Two strikes.

“No no, you shouldn’t mind us just taking a look inside-” Asshat roughly jerked the covers aside, reaching in.

Last strike. Desmond lashed out, kicking out one of the horse’s back legs. It lurched back in alarm throwing it’s rider to the ground in a thud of metal, flesh, dust, and screams.

Showing the first bit of intelligence; idiot 2 backed his horse away as Asshat laid there; no doubt stunned.

Desmond quickly crawled over, taking the idiot in. There was no doubt that landing had to have hurt; but how much damage?

The knight shoved Desmond away, fighting his armour to get back upright.

A little bit of blood. But. Not _enough_.

Clenching his fist, and unsheathing his hidden blade had it sliding it home in the man’s chest.

He got a choked gasp and a blank stare as the man tried to figure out what happened, blood pooling in his mouth.

Desmond watched him die before he could figure it out.

“Sir!” he called out, tone frantic, quickly retracting his blade. “I think he’s been knocked out.”

“I doubt it.” Idiot 2 scoffed. “That fall was hardly anything to faint over.” He swung off his horse and dropped to a crouch over Asshat. “Get up you – wait.”

Catching sight of the blood the knight started shaking Asshat, attention completely on the dead man.

He never noticed Desmond behind him until the blade sunk through his back and into his heart.

Glancing about, Desmond spat to the side, swiftly pulling his gauntlet off, wiping the blade free of blood. “Clear.”

Rebecca threw her head free of the cart with a dramatic gasp; eyeing the carnage. “Nicely done.” She complimented cheerfully. “Quick too.”

That got a snort from Shaun who quickly looked the sight over. “You know he doesn’t like to be bullied.” He pulled his book back out, scowling at the text.

Aftercare completed Desmond was quick to loot the bodies; shoving them out of the way.

“Huh.” He eyed one pouch, filled to the brim with coin. “Asshat was trying to steal food from what he thought to be the Church when he was loaded.” He handed the two pouches over to Rebecca who exclaimed at the money they’d just collected, while Desmond eyed the horses left behind.

Shrugging to himself he began to strip the horses down of anything valuable, tying their rein’s to the back of the cart.

“Oh.” Shaun turned away from his book long enough to take note of Desmond’s actions. “We could use more horses. Good idea. And-” He nudged full coin purse. “We’ve now got the coin to feed them too. Okay, good pit stop.” He turned back to the book.

Desmond snorted. “Thanks.”

-

Stranded in the past; the three of them had quickly learned to find something to do with themselves; lest they drove each other mad.

Shaun had decided to turn his big brain towards amassing a collection of books to rival that of the lost Library of Alexandria; a library that wouldn’t be known by anyone. A library that hopefully wouldn’t burn.

One that would be safe; and maybe become a treasure of the Assassin’s Order in the distant future. Which meant he had to also catalog each and every book for its value. Luckily enough Shaun hadn’t had any of his growing collection in the house that had burned; which at the time had been Desmond’s home alone.

Before the fire, the three had lived in separate houses; needing to have their own space, _away_ from each other. Because those first few months together had nearly driven Rebecca to draw a blade; had been a wakeup call.

Desmond almost burning alive – alone – had changed everything.

His near-death had put several things into focus for the three of them.

Shaun – while being a miserable mess – had found something to dedicate himself to. His love of history.

Basically books.

Desmond had his ever-growing family.

Rebecca however, was forced to leave much of technology behind. All she had were the things they had in their bags when the accident happened, leaving them in the 12th century, stranded. And it drove her mad; those first few months.

With nothing better to do, she turned all her time to the small business they’d inadvertently created; producing several articles of clothing for the three them, using the tanned hides that became the result of hunting for food. Including the uniform Desmond wore now.

So far, she’d been able to recreate something like leather; and a material hard enough it could withstand a good swipe with a sword or a punch.

Desmond had worried about just how much energy and time she was putting into this project but was now glad she’d found something to occupy her, what with the Animus needing electricity to work, after all.

He honestly was waiting for her to recreate solar panels to charge the damn thing, just for something to do. Or an explanation of what happened.

She wasn’t happy in this time; still hopeful of finding a way home.

But where was home?

Here? With his Bonded Omega and his children?

Or back in the future to a Brotherhood he’d already once run away from, back to his abusive leader/father?

Part of him knew the future is where he belonged. He’d already done enough damage here that the ripples through time had to have erased his future self entirely. And there still was the issue of the Solar Flare …

But another part; his heart – and honestly his dick – wanted to stay. He’d created a family here. Something so much better than the broken home he’d run from over a decade ago.

Altair, Ishtar, their young son Nabir, and the little one so close to being born; _they_ needed him. More than William ever would. Even then, William had proven more than once that he only saw Desmond as the continuation of two great Assassin lines; _a thing_ , not a person, not his son.

Just another solider in the long war. One they’d been losing.

As far as Desmond was concerned; here he was needed. And as long as they needed him, wanted him; he’d stay.

His children, his omega, his brother and sister; they accepted him as he was and didn’t look down on him because of what he’d been forced to be.

An Omega by birth, but with the traits of an Alpha grafted on;

The Delta.


	7. Domestically

Roughly half a mile away from that forest clearing, Ishtar was multitasking; hands helping her mother rub out a few of the knots he’d managed to develop during that long walk, eyes on the pot of soup her father had set to slowly simmer in the kitchen earlier that day.

She may have only been 9 years old, but as a female Alpha, her parents – mostly Altair – had taught her self-reliance early in her life. Other than her parents, she had no need to ever rely on any man. She was headstrong like her mother; but not to the point of thoughtless arrogance. She was ever watchful like her father, but not so withdrawn that her social skills were lacking.

And the pot was about to boil over. 

Helping Altair settle into his heavily padded rocking chair Ishtar quickly grabbed the bowl of mixed vegetables Desmond had left out, swiftly pouring the assorted carrots, potatoes, and other such-and-such into the pot. It calmed the boiling water and she started to stir it with a wooden spoon.

It needed maybe thirty minutes to soften the vegetables … a bit more water, and then that last splash of-

“Ishtar?” Her mother’s voice from his chair, sounding tight, pained. “Could you get some water going for tea?”

Ishtar paused, setting the spoon aside to grab a clay kettle already filled with water that had been brought to a boil several times and safe for her mother during this delicate time, setting it too over the fire.

_“You need to make sure whatever water you use to cook with – even just tea – has been brought to a boil at least once before using it. Water drawn right from the well is dirty, and your Mother can’t afford an illness along with this pregnancy. If he gets sick it’s a near guarantee he’ll miscarry. Do you understand?”_

Yes Father. She understood.

“Yes Mother. Are you okay?”

She heard Altair sigh. “My side doesn’t want to loosen up. But I’m fine sweetheart.”

She peaked around the corner between the kitchen and the living area where Altair was.

“Herb or mint?”

That got her a grunt. “Herbal,” She heard her Mother murmur something softly, then a quick- “-please.”

After putting that last spoonful of the herbs her father had mixed together to season the stew and adding some wood in the fire, Ishtar was quick to make a pot of tea to her Mother’s liking grabbing a few cups and a tray.

Walking into their living room graced Ishtar with the rare sight of her Mother nursing her baby brother Nabir, who was still swaddled in the white cloth Altair had used to carry him.

Altair never breastfed the baby where Desmond could see him; despite the fact that her Father could barely see to begin with.

Desmond had once told her Altair didn’t like to undress around him for ‘Omega/Alpha’ reasons and that she’d understand someday when she had a mate and pup of her own.

Ishtar just put it down as part of _‘the perversion of the male gender’_ (trademark auntie Becca); and left it at that.

“Nabir! How is he?” She asked cheerfully, setting the tray down just within reach of her Mother. 

Altair’s response was short and terse, voice still tight from pain. “Hungry.” He glanced over at the cups and sighed, reaching over with his free hand to tug the tray in closer. “Did Desmond leave anything cooking for dinner?” with that one hand - the other full of fussy baby – Altair began to make himself a cup of tea, nursing baby in one hand, kettle in the other; Ishtar watching with a smile.

He’d long ago forbade anyone else making him a cup of anything; _‘Yes I’m pregnant but guess what? Both my arms are just fine!’_

“Yes, some stew. I’d say another 30 minutes … maybe an hour and it’s done.”

Altair hummed softly, sitting back into the cushioned chair with a sigh. Ishtar got up close to Nabir, running a finger over his belly to make the baby wiggle, giggling.

“Go set the timer.”

Ishtar blinked slowly - then - “Oh! … Right.” -getting to her feet to rush for the time-glasses Desmond kept in the kitchen.

She had no idea where they came from, but Desmond kept a collection of time-glasses in the kitchen, sand-filled devices ranging from small to giant, each able to help tell the passage of time.

Grabbing the one that lasted roughly 30 minutes Ishtar brought it into their living room, flipped it, and then set it down within Altair’s sight.

She had a habit of forgetting it.

Task done Ishtar skipped back over to her mother, once again getting herself back in her little brother’s face, now that he’d finished nursing for the moment and was now protesting the burping part of the break. The little Omega was slow to grow; no doubt because of Altair’s ill-health during the pregnancy and the fact that He was born prematurely.

All in all; for being the child they’d all thought Altair would never conceive; Nabir was their miracle baby, surprisingly healthy, if small.

Altair’s current pregnancy was the _‘how-are-you-still-getting-pregnant!?_ ’ baby.

_“Nabir~ Nabir!”_ Ishtar sang quietly, grinning when Altair chuckled, the baby focusing on her face, waving little hands. “I can’t wait until you can talk!”

“You’ll enjoy it for the first few years, but when his balls drop you’ll be demanding he shut up.” Altair replied dryly.

Ishtar blinked. “ _‘Balls drop’_?” She frowned. “What does that mean?”

The Omega sighed. “It’s a phrase for when males enter puberty.”

_“Oooohh.”_ She cocked her head to the side. “That’s right, boys don’t bleed! So for them, balls dropping means they’ve hit puberty. _Okay!”_

The door slammed shut, both of them starting – Altair scrambling to pull his Hijab back over his chest.

“What exactly are you teaching our daughter Altair?” Desmond asked as he walked into the living room, smirking when Altair cleared his throat pointedly his free hand holding the cloth in place.

“Well hello to you too.” Altair began dryly. “I may have made the mistake of using a phrase she didn’t understand. And I had to then, of course, explain it to her.”

Desmond snorted, pulling off the rosary belt. “I’m home.” He replied mockingly, pulling the heavy black priest robes up and shook himself; letting the rest of his clothes settle back in their places. “What on Earth could you have said? How in the world did the phrase _‘balls dropping’_ have come into the conversation?”

Now slightly red, Altair turned to stare off to the side.

Ishtar waited for Desmond to set aside the monk robes and then screamed - _“Daddy!”_ launching herself at him.

Catching the nine-year-old and spinning her around, Desmond pulled her in for a hug, kissing her cheek.

“Mother told me that while I’d like Nabir to learn to talk now; that I won’t when he is in puberty! _Or; when his balls drop.”_ Ishtar told him in a mock whisper, clinging to his side while sat on his hip. “Why would his ability to talk matter _then_ , but not _now_?”

“Boys in puberty are weird.” Desmond explained. “They’re changing from boys to men, and that change isn’t easy. Just like how you’ve begun to change now.”

Ishtar frowned. “But-”

“Men and women have to face different hardships in life.” He continued. “Just remember that. Even if it isn’t hard for you doesn’t mean it isn’t hard for someone else. You just have to accept that, and respect people’s personal boundaries.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She said slowly, contemplatively. “Oh, where are Auntie and Uncle?”

“Putting away all the food we bought. For future reference, it’s all going into the second shed.”

Ishtar nodded and ran out of the room to help; subconsciously realizing that her parents needed a moment.

“Why aren’t you helping?” Altair mumbled, grumbling when Desmond leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I already put _my_ cargo under lock and key in the first shed.”

Altair sighed. “How tight did you tie up Malik? He’s a slippery one.”

Desmond chuckled, walking into their bedroom while undoing the blood-red sash around his waist. “No need.” That got him a _look_.

Desmond didn’t have to see the look Altair was giving him, laughing. “No, really. With that dose of the sedative we gave him he’ll be too groggy to try to escape the first few times he manages to wake up, and besides; I’m _watching_ the two of them.”

The two of them continued talking easily; Eagle Vision allowing them both to watch the other; even through the wall. Both saw each other as glowing golden silhouettes, and Desmond could easily make out Nabir under Altair’s robes; the baby a softer golden glow.

With his true sight damaged, Desmond’s Gift had mutated; allowing for more detailed information from the enhanced sense. It was how he could not only see Altair and Nabir as two separate entities; but could also see Altair’s face clearly, see him shift, and move. And if he really concentrated; he could monitor his heartbeat.

Altair snorted. “Right. Okay, if you say so.” He paused. “I still think you should tie them up in some way. Malik can be a sly, sneaky, son of a bitch; and don’t even get me started on Kadar. He may _look_ all innocent but he’s a _terror_.”

“Well. Okay, you know them best.” Desmond shrugged, chuckling at the look Altair sent him.

Altair rolled his eyes. “Are they in separate cells?” he called out; shifting Nabir back to his chest so the boy could latch on to the other nipple.

Desmond paused in the middle undoing the outer layer of his robes. He set his sash and belt aside, replying. “Of course.” Walking back into their living room, Desmond dropped down to one knee in front of Altair. “What’s with interrogation, Altair? Is something wrong?”

Desmond watched Altair squirm in his seat, face pinched in pain. “I’m fine.”

“Of course you are. You’re just hurting; nothing worth mentioning when you’re eight months pregnant...” He sighed, pulling his robes off. Now left in a loose pair of pants and a thin sleeveless light grey tunic Desmond got back up, and stood behind Altair, running his hands down Altair’s back, fingers hitting a few pressure points that caused the pregnant omega to groan in pain.

Altair shuddered, leaning forwards so Desmond could reach farther down, one hand clutching the edge of cloth keeping his clothing in place over his chest. _“… Ow…”_

“Oh?” Desmond pressed his thumbs into Altair’s lower back, frowning as the Assassin jolted, leaning away from him.

Strong hands rubbing into the tense muscle along his lower back had Altair pulling away from Desmond’s touch. “Ow ow okay, okay; _stop!”_

Desmond hummed softly but stopped, instead rubbing the area soothingly. “How long?”

Altair huffed, shifting to check on their son. Still happily suckling away. “Not too long I think, I really didn’t notice until I sat down. I think it was all the walking.”

“So no more of that then.” Desmond pressed his hands to Altair’s shoulders, leaning forwards enough to catch sight of Nabir. “You know…” He continued, leaning over Altair’s shoulder. “You don’t _have_ to hide your body from me.”

Altair started, glancing down to make sure he was completely covering himself. “I’m not.”

“Oh? So the fact that I haven’t seen you completely naked since your 12th week feels normal, when I – as your Alpha – sleep in your bed?”

Both eyes open Desmond smiled with a soft chuckle as he noticed the flush rising up Altair’s neck. He pressed his lips to the reddening skin, humming. “Especially like this. I enjoy watching you nurse.”

“I can’t see why.” Altair muttered angrily. “The body you lusted for is long gone, I must look like a bloated camel to you, despite the fact that can you can barely see-”

_“Altair.”_ The one word made the angry rant fall short, and Desmond hugged him from behind. “On that note; one, I don’t care that you’re out of shape because you’ve given me the children I’ve always wanted.” He let one hand rub at Altair’s descended abdomen, feeling the muscle still there, and slipping said hand under the pile of cloth Altair had taken to cover himself with. “Two, even if you decided not to get back in shape, I don’t care. It’s your body and it’s up to you what you do with it. Now, while I do prefer you lose some of the baby fat that’s for your own health, not me wanting you to look attractive. It doesn’t matter to me. I love you, Altair; skinny or muscular or even fat. Okay?”

Working his hand up under the shroud of cloth covering their son, Desmond pulled the top layer off exposing Altair’s upper chest and their second born.

“I don’t care. Really, I don’t. You once showed me that you still loved me despite my scars. Why would I feel any different about you in return?”

That had Altair’s flush rising to his cheeks.

“Hello there little man.” Desmond cooed at Nabir, smiling as the baby grinned back at him, toothless gums exposed as Desmond let the little boy play with his finger.

Altair huffed angrily, fighting the urge to smile at the two of them.

Desmond let his finger run down Nabir’s belly, lightly scratching at the area to get his son to laugh. “Is he done?”

“Yes.” And thankfully so, the pressure of too much milk backed up in his pecs got to be painful if he didn’t nurse Nabir on time, his body in sync with the baby’s feeding cycle.

Pulling out the bit of cotton cloth Altair used to spot clean their son from Altair’s lap, Desmond draped it over his shoulder and picked the baby up, setting the squirmy child onto his chest. And starting to sway, Desmond began to pat Nabir’s back, humming softly.

Staring down at his swollen chest, both nipples a sensitive mess of dark tissue, Altair harrumphed, beginning the process of buttoning back up his white thobe, propping his feet up on a nearby bit of furniture.

“Hopefully we can get Nabir to eat solids soon after the baby is born.” Desmond comments idly, murmuring to Nabir as the baby began to cry. The little boy never liked to be burped.

Focused on Nabir; Desmond didn’t notice Altair’s face pinch in pain until he let out a soft grunt of exertion.

“Altair?”

The Omega sighed softly, pressing a hand to his side as he leaned back into his seat. Desmond watched him, both eyes on him until the Omega grunted. “What?”

“Don’t tell me…”

“No. It’s nothing.”

Nabir whined wordlessly, giving Desmond a soft belch as he wiggled furiously. Desmond snorted. “You know better than that.”

Altair sighed, letting his head bonk against the back of his chair. “I can’t be. It’s too soon.”

Desmond bounced Nabir, smiling at the toddler’s giggle. “We both knew this could probably happen.” He sighed softly, shifting his hold on his son, cradling him in his arms; the baby latching onto his ponytail. “While eight months is a bit sooner than I’d like; we can’t stop your labor like the last time when you still carried Nabir. Those drugs aren’t something we should play around with.”

“It’s too soon. It can’t be safe for me to give birth.”

“It’s a tossup really. If we’re lucky the baby has developed enough to survive, but we cannot hesitate.” He paused, shifting to stand right in front of Altair, looking directly at him. “In my eyes the choices are simple. We can fight this time, and I lose you both or let nature run her course, and have a fifty-fifty chance of losing just the baby.” He paused at the scowl Altair developed at the thought. “Exactly. Now, lover don’t think me _callous_ but …” he dropped down to one knee, cradling their firstborn son to his chest. “If we do lose the child, with you alive there can be others. _But if I lose you_ …” the mere thought of it had the Alpha in Desmond snarling aloud; both eyes flashing red.

Altair blinked, spine going stiff at the sight, eyes wide.

It was instinctual for a mated pair that he respond in kind to his Alpha in such a state.

_Drop everything and **obey**._

Desmond had never done so before; and Altair – knowledgeable about Desmond’s biological straddling of the secondary genders only half the population held – had previously thought Desmond simply didn’t have the ability to awaken the flight or fight response in his own omega half.

Looks like he was wrong.

But Desmond did not order him to concede, instead bowing his head and letting the moment pass.

Desmond watched Altair; waiting for him to calm, letting out a soft breath. “I only have so much knowledge in this Altair, I think we need to get the physician as soon as possible-”

“No.”

Desmond paused, lifting his head and eyes to Altair’s frown. “I know you don’t like doctors-”

“I don’t need one.”

“-but this pregnancy has been really hard on you-”

“I’ll be fine.”

“-and I don’t want to risk you or the baby if something happens that a _proper physician could have caught!”_ Finally raising his voice Desmond startled Altair enough to go silent. He sighed, placing their son back in his Omega’s arms and resting his arms in the younger man’s lap.

“I know you’re probably hoping that I would act as your midwife this time just like the last but. Altair; I’ve already hurt you once-”

Altair jerked forwards; one arm holding Nabir to his chest; the other grabbing onto Desmond’s hand. “What- no!”

Desmond shook his head slowly, gaze lowered. “Because of my ineptitude you’ve already endured more pain than an Omega expects; even taking the labor of two children into consideration.”

Altair’s hand tightened on his; prompting Desmond to look up. _“That was my fault.”_

“Even so. I do not have enough training, nor practice to handle it this time. I fear something will happen to endanger you or our child and I need to be sure that if something does happen, we have someone on hand to help you.” He reached forwards, cupping Altair’s cheek in one hand, keeping their hands clasped. “So, just let me take care of you, okay?”

The Omega huffed. “Fine, okay. But I don’t like it!” He made a face. “Besides … that’s not all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> early present! chapters 6 and 7 were originally one chapter, so I decided to post both at the same time.   
> Don't forget to tell me what you think! Any questions??


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